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“I think the very same thing.” With a wistful smile, I squeezed her hand. “She would have loved you, too.”
“It’s like we were separated at birth.” She stared at Anabel’s tombstone. “Besides being so much alike, do you know we even have the same birthday?”
“What!? Today’s your birthday?”
With a sheepish grin, she nodded. “Yup, my eighteenth. Can you believe I was born on the very same day as her a year apart? Weird, right?”
Yes. No. No. Yes. How could I have not known this? Xanax brain?
No wonder she’d said she was eighteen earlier.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I knew this day was important to you. I didn’t want to make it all about me.”
“Oh, my sweet Tanya! You’re making me cry again.” I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. “I feel terrible. You should have told me. I don’t even have a birthday present for you.”
“You are my present. I love you so much, Natalie.”
Her heartfelt words tugged at my heartstrings. Fraught with emotion, I palmed a hand to my chest. “I love you too.”
An ear-to-ear smile split her face. “Thank you, Natalie, for letting me be here with you. It means a lot to me.”
“No, I should be thanking you. You’ve made it so much easier getting through this very difficult day.”
I hadn’t even wept, I thought, as I gave her another big, grateful hug. Maybe it was more than a coincidence that she and Anabel shared the same birthday. Maybe, it was meant to be.
Finally, I let go of her. “Come. We should go.” I slipped on my shoes, gathered my bag, and stood up. She followed suit, taking my pashmina shawl and her backpack with her.
“The rest of the day, my darling, is going to be about you.”
I was going to take her shopping at The Grove. Let her pick out whatever she wanted. And tonight, I was going to throw her a surprise birthday party.
And make it the best night of her life.
TWENTY-SEVEN
PAIGE
My car was back from the shop. Fortunately, Tanya hadn’t totaled it. It needed a brand-new front fender, two new front tires, a new windshield, and the airbags replaced. Apart from that, it was as good as new. Begrudgingly, my father gave me back my keys, which I kept with me at all times in case the car thief wanted to take my Jeep on another joyride.
With my mom visiting my sister’s gravesite and Tanya with her for whatever reason, Will and I had the perfect opportunity to sneak into Tanya’s room, steal her laptop, and then go on a road trip. To visit Mary C. Burton in Redlands. Since Tanya’s MacBook was stored in her computer bag, she probably wouldn’t notice it was missing until tomorrow morning when she slung the bag over her shoulder.
All hell was going to break loose at breakfast. But genius Will came up with a brilliant idea. To put one of my mom’s Le Creuset casserole pans in the bag; it weighed about the same as the laptop. God, I loved my brother! I couldn’t wait till first period when she zipped the bag open and discovered the switch. Tomorrow was going to be a fun, fun day! I only wished I had protective armor.
The drive was a piece of cake, once I was on the 10, heading east. It felt good to be behind the wheel again, cruising down the freeway. It also felt good to spend some time with Will. During the week, we were both busy with schoolwork and extracurricular activities, and on Saturdays, he had his robotics meets. It looked like his team was going to make it into the finals. Robotics was to Will what sculpting was to me. A passion.
With little traffic, we got to Mary Burton’s house in less than an hour. She was expecting us as I’d texted her to make sure she’d be home. It would have been foolish to make the long trip if she wasn’t going to be around.
We found a parking spot on the street right outside her house. It was a small one-story shingle structure with an attached single-car garage that was part of a cookie-cutter housing development likely dating to the seventies. Mary’s house was neatly maintained, painted a slate blue with white shutters, and had a nicely manicured lawn with a bed of colorful flowers bordering the walkway. Armed with my backpack and Will beside me, I rang the doorbell. It made a ding-dong sound. Wordlessly, we waited for someone to come to the front door. A few minutes passed and worry set in.
“Pudge, are you sure she said she’d be home?” asked Will.
“Yeah.” I rang the bell again.
Then, from behind the door, to my relief, I heard a booming voice. “Coooming!”
On my next breath, the door unlocked and slid partway open, a safety chain still in place. A woman’s face appeared in the crack. She was jowly and had a puff of white hair.
